


don't judge me

by eriev



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Dysfunctional Family, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Drama, Jewish Character, M/M, Mom Lalonde's C- Parenting, Past Abuse, Romantic Comedy, Rose’s Antagonism vs. Dave’s Desperate Need For Approval: Fight!, background jrezi roxycallie and dirkjake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriev/pseuds/eriev
Summary: Dave and Rose return home for summer break to attend their mother’s wedding and reconnect with their friends.  To subtly antagonize her mother who has constantly berated her for not dating anyone, Rose brings home the most ornery man she knows, her friend Karkat.  To receive the approval of his mother who has only gained custody of him in the past four years, Dave brings home the best woman he knows, his friend Kanaya.  Amidst the chaos of wedding preparations and threats to undermine their charades, Rose and Dave find themselves drawn to the other’s date.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Kanaya Maryam & Dave Strider, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Rose Lalonde & Karkat Vantas, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam
Comments: 14
Kudos: 72





	don't judge me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the [song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L1Hr9Meh0r8) by Janelle Monáe.
> 
> Background relationships include Mom Lalonde/Dad Egbert, Jrezi, Roxycallie, and Dirkjake.  
> Referenced past relationships include Karezi, Davejade, Gamrezi and Vrisrezi, as well as unrequited Jdave, Jaderose and Vriskan.
> 
> Blanket warnings for the entire fic: referenced past abuse, alcoholism, internalized homophobia, past transphobia, not-quite infidelity. Let me know if you want more details; I'll link more spoilery warnings at the end notes of chapters where they apply.

Rose found Karkat in an armchair sequestered in his favorite corner of the library, his knees tucked into his chest and his face buried in what was probably a cliche bodice ripper. She hovered over him in silence for a couple seconds before clearing her throat twice. When he did not look up, she tapped his shoulder, sending his limbs flailing.

“I will eviscerate…!—fucking Christ, Rose. I _do_ have a phone and a Pesterchum account you can message me on if you want to get ahold of me, instead of hunting me down in person and robbing me of what little free time I have before my existence is consumed by finals.”

Rose cut straight to the chase. “I’ve come to collect a favor.”

“Oh no.” Rose gave herself a moment to appreciate the horror in Karkat’s eyes.

She set down her bag and stole a chair from a nearby empty table, continuing to speak over the scratch of metal against carpet and and the hum of conversation from the other students. “Oh yes. You mentioned that your father and brother were on a cruise for the first month of summer break, leaving you to, as I believe you said, ‘shrivel up and die from boredom in my dad's pathetic excuse for a house with only cockroaches to keep me company.’” 

Karkat sighed and closed his novel; the poorly photoshopped cover was truly mesmerizing. “And has the illustrious Rose Lalonde come to save me from being carried away from cockroaches in the night?”

“Unless you count my family members as cockroaches, which is debatable, then yes.”

“I feel like throwing myself off the roof of Skaia tower already! Please continue.”

“My mother is getting remarried, and I need a plus one so she doesn’t waste another dinner complaining about how I’ve never dated anyone. I think you would make an entertaining addition to an already colorful cast of characters. It would be one month, and you would be given free food and a place to stay. So. Questions?”

Karkat thought for a moment, resting his chin against the spine of his novel. “It has been a while since I’ve been to a good wedding. And planning a fake romantic backstory sounds pretty fun—you know I can’t resist a good romance novel trope, and fake dating fits the bill to a fucking tee. Almost!”

“Almost?”

“Firstly, I would skewer myself through the eye before dating you for real and if I ever start developing romantic feelings for you, I will have to go to a hospital to get my brain checked for tumors. Secondly, unless you’ve forgotten in your blinding need for parental approval, you’re a lesbian!”

Rose gasped, clutching a hand to her chest. “Wait, I’m a lesbian? Tell me more about this ‘lesbian’ thing.”

“Aaagh! No, I’m not rising to the bait. I’m better than that,” Karkat lied. “It’s the second thing I learned about you, right after how much you love the word ‘protuberance.’” 

“I haven’t told my mom, and I’m not planning on it anytime soon.” Mom would surely find a way to make Rose’s coming out about stealing her spotlight.

Karkat lowered his voice slightly, which put him at a normal volume compared to everyone else. “Wait… but you’re on estrogen, so you’re at least out to her in that respect, right?”

“Yes, we've passed that conversational trainwreck. She’s gotten me the treatment I need, and one of my cousins is nonbinary and has a female partner, another one is gay and has a boyfriend, and I’m sure she’d be accepting of me and Dave—if Dave ever comes out to himself. No one is going to say anything negative about you being a bisexual trans man if you feel like bringing it up.”

“I think I’ll pass on discussing every single facet of my identity with strangers. Not that I’ve agreed to this yet!” Rose fiddled with the strap on her bag, waiting for Karkat to arrive at a conclusion. “Hmph. You’ll let me read the first draft of your elusive novel, and make commentary where I deem necessary?”

Karkat was a nightmare for peer review, which had been made clear from their first interaction in Creative Writing 2001. She had let slip her secondary dream of publishing a novel, and he had yet to shut up about it since. Despite his incorrect criticisms of her work, Karkat wasn’t a horrible writer; he had a talent for creative metaphors and shared her love of capturing the style of romanticism. But still. “I reserve the right to ignore everything you say, but I will let you read what I have so far. To summarize: I am giving you access to free food, entertainment in the form of family drama and my unfinished manuscript, and a chance to roleplay your romantic comedy dreams. And I hopefully don’t need to remind you of me bailing you out last semester. So?” 

Karkat picked at his nails. “Your mother’s really that terrible?”

“She can be quite a bitch,” said Rose.

Karkat threw up his hands in defeat. “Ugh. Yes, you asshole. But don't forget: we're even, and you're never getting another favor out of me even after my rotting carcass has been left for the maggots.”

Rose smiled, and held her hand out for Karkat to shake. “Then it’s a deal. I knew I could count on you.”

“There are not enough words in the English language to describe how much I am already regretting this. Years from now, archaeologists will dig up my bones and display them in a museum. The label will read ‘Karkat Vantas: the dumbfuck who made a deal with the devil herself.’”

“First point of order: you will need to get into plenty of fights. Nothing physical, but the louder the better. Insult Dave’s webcomics, poke fun at Dirk’s glasses and hygiene, make digs at my mother and the wedding planning itself—you get the idea.”

“You’re giving me permission to be an enormous tool?”

“Not necessarily the biggest in the shed,” said Rose. "But your particular charm is exactly what I'm looking for."

"I'm always ready to yell at people. Any requests?"

"After meeting my family, you’ll find plenty of inspiration. I linked you to Dave's webcomic a couple months ago."

Karkat's brow furrowed. "Wait. Your brother created that visual assault on the eyeballs?"

Rose smirked. "He is a true patron of the arts."

"The points I lost on that American Literature midterm can be traced back to the brain cells that were destroyed the second I caught a glimpse of that jpeg monstrosity."

“I’m sure he'd love to hear your feedback. Don’t go too hard on Dave or Dirk or Roxy, though—Roxy is an angel, and their partner is off-limits—but the ruder you are to my mother, the better. I want her to never ask about my love life again.”

“And if she just gets more controlling over who you date?”

Rose shrugged. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get there.” Having a terrible date for the wedding was the most important part.

❀.*｡･

The ride to the bus station closest to Dave’s mother’s house— _your house,_ Dave reminded himself—was four nonstop hours of Kanaya’s elbow being uncomfortably jammed into his ribcage. He peered over at Kanaya’s sketchbook, where she was lining a dress with poofy sleeves and a sleek skirt. “Looks pretty rad so far,” said Dave. “I’m thinkin’ emerald green?”

“Thank you,” said Kanaya. “And I was leaning towards lavender.”

“You wanna see what I’m working on?”

Kanaya wrinkled her nose in distaste, as he knew she would. He worked hard to cultivate that kind of visceral reaction to his work. “I think I’ll pass.” She closed her sketchbook, using her pen to mark her place, pulled out a tube of green lipstick, and applied it liberally.

“Maybe I shoulda brought someone else,” Dave said. “Luckily gaydar doesn’t actually exist, or anyone with a functioning one would ping you as a lipstick lesbian.”

“I _am_ a lipstick lesbian,” said Kanaya. “And I am _not_ an actress, but as I said, I am willing to try for the sake of our friendship, free food, and intriguing family drama.”

“Speaking of intriguing family drama, lemme quiz you on the players in our little Shakespearean comedy of a wedding.” Dave pulled out his phone, navigating to his photos folder, and pulled up a picture of his mother and her betrothed.

Kanaya flipped to a page in her sketchbook, showing Dave a family tree. “Are you insinuating I’m an amateur when it comes to other people’s business?”

“Oh shit, we’ve got a diagram and everything. I stand corrected; let it be known to every single person on this bus that Kanaya Maryam does her fucking homework, and that she does not deserve my slander.”

Kanaya pointed to a woman dressed in a fashionable white jacket and a pink scarf, her immaculate hair and makeup refusing to yield to the humid day this picture was taken. “Ruby Lalonde: renowned chemist who wrote several novel theories in her field while completely smashed. The purpose of my tagging along to this wedding is to endear myself to her, and thus endear you to her.”

“Bingo. That’s Mom, and we’re never going to mention my completely normal and non desperate need for her validation ever again. Gonna keep that shit locked up. The prisoners are planning to steal the guard's key in his sleep, but he straight up swallowed it. It's too big to be digested; they're never escaping now.”

“Too bad they only had one key; it's going to be difficult to remove the prisoners' bodies from the cell.” Kanaya pointed to the man standing next to Mom, the platonic ideal of a white collar worker. “Josh Egbert: accountant and the groom. His first wife was lost at sea.”

“And that’s all there is to say on the matter,” said Dave, scrolling to a new picture that ignited a flame of nostalgia in his chest. It was a high-res photo, taken a half hour after his high school graduation ceremony had ended. Shitty webcams couldn’t quite capture the light dusting of freckles on Jade’s light brown cheeks, the puckered scar at the corner of John’s eye where he had gotten too friendly with a stapler, or the laughter lines at the corner of Rose’s eyes. 

“Well,” said Kanaya, pointing at Dave, “that’s you, obviously. And your sister, Rose, who you’ve described fondly as an ‘antagonistic, overdramatic goth Freud wannabe.’ I’m looking forward to meeting her.” 

“I think you’ll get along like a house on fire,” said Dave. He walked a constant tightrope of being terrified by and inspired by Rose, which he would never admit to anyone. “And who are these nerds?”

“John and Jade, Mr. Egbert’s children. You said Jade was studying physics, and John is an aspiring comedian?”

“Yeah. We’ve been messaging all day, but I’m pumped to see them in person. Rose is like, an hour away, so I get to see her, but Egbert is five hours away and Jade got into a college for people with actual brains and futures seven hours away.”

“You also mentioned that Jade is your ex?”

“Haha yeah, Junior year was weird and fucked up, and being together was kinda ruining our friendship ‘cause I was an ass about it. But it’s chill; there’s no hard feelings now or anything and she’s still one of my best friends. Just a nice girl who likes being friendly, you know?” Dave’s heart no longer beat rapidly at Jade’s smile and free laughter, but he still thought of her sometimes when he was bored in the absence of other romantic interests, or when the romantic interests presented to him weren’t… hey, Kanaya was talking. Listening to her was probably a good idea. 

“It is nice that you are still so close with your childhood friends. I talk to a couple of mine on occasion, but not as often as I would like.” Kanaya pulled out her phone and, a couple swipes later, pulled up a picture of twelve people.

Dave whistled. “That’s more friends than I’ve ever made in my entire life.” 

Kanaya swiped left, revealing a photo of four kids in pirate costumes. “We had our cliques, of course, and some of us weren’t as close as others. These four had a LARP group together.” Another swipe, revealing a photo of three people: two boys glaring at each other as a girl grinned widely, her arm slung around each of them. At least, Dave assumed the boy with bi-colored glasses was glaring. “And we had our share of romantic teenage drama. This love triangle in particular was a headache.” She swiped again, and her expression was unreadable.

“And these four? Wait; that one kinda looks like you.” Dave pointed to a brown-skinned girl wearing a neat red skirt and black blouse who was poorly trying to hide her laughter at the antics of the other three: a girl with medium dark skin and a red bandana tied over her eyes laughed as she practically held two other people in a chokehold. A girl with coarse dark hair and heavy blue eyeshadow and lipstick grinned menacingly at the camera and poked the third person in the side, a dark skinned boy with messy black hair who appeared to be screaming his face off. He recognized the two girls from the second picture Kanaya had shown him.

“It is. We were good friends, but I was never as close with her—” Kanaya pointed at the girl with the red bandana “—as I was with the other two. I was in love with her,” Kanaya said wistfully, her finger lingering over the girl with the menacing smile. 

“Did she break your heart?”

“In some ways. Vriska is… hard to describe, to put it lightly. She was strong and fearless and dangerous, and she wasn’t afraid to go for what she wanted. I wasn’t sure at first if I wanted to be her or be _with_ her, but when she wasn’t bullying boys into liking her, she was spending practically all her time with her _._ ” She pointed back to Red Bandana. 

“And who’s this douche?”

“We fell out of touch. I don’t even know what college he’s attending, but it’s not like I didn’t try.” Kanaya sighed, her posture tense. “My mother is a foster parent; he was my foster brother for a couple years, but after Junior year, due to… extenuating circumstances, he moved away and dropped off the face of the earth. Our friend group was fracturing before that, but it completely dissolved soon after he left.”

“Seems like an asshole to me, if he straight-up abandoned your friendship. Especially considering he was practically your _brother;_ what the fuck.” Kanaya hummed in what Dave couldn’t discern was agreement or dissent. “You wanna go back to my drama?”

“Dear God yes,” said Kanaya.

Dave pulled up a picture of his cousins. “Alright; you’ve got a perfect streak going, Maryam. We’ve got bases loaded, and you’re next up on the plate. The ball’s in your court, and it’s just one touchdown until we take home the baseball cup. I’m trusting you not to let me down. Who’s this asshole who's trying to pass himself off as a third-rate anime protag?”

“That is your cousin—”

❀.*｡･

Dirk met Rose's enthusiastic wave with a nod and a smile and walked over to meet them. 

Karkat let out a stream of profanities as the wheel of his suitcase caught on a crack on the floor. “That bus ride alone should have been enough to pay off my debt.”

“You lived,” said Rose.

“My lifespan has been significantly diminished from all that secondhand smoke! Tell me you honestly didn’t want to shove that cigarette into that asshole’s eye socket.”

“No comment. There’s Dirk.” Rose grabbed Karkat’s hand. They had agreed upon boundaries; hand holding and some cuddling was acceptable, while kissing, especially on the mouth, was off limits. They met Dirk halfway, and Dirk took Rose’s suitcase from her when they reached him.

Dirk’s eyes were obscured by his terrible anime shades, but she could tell he was happy to see her from the upturned quirk of his lips and the way he squeezed her tight when they briefly hugged. Dirk didn’t have a loud voice, but he raised it to be heard above the cacophony of the bus station. “How is my second favorite cousin?”

“I haven’t heard about anything bad happening to Dave except his bus almost being delayed, but I’ve never been better,” said Rose, smiling. “This is Karkat.”

“Ah yes, the love of your life we hadn’t heard about until two weeks ago,” said Dirk, holding out a hand for Karkat to shake. 

Karkat took Dirk’s hand and, from what Rose could tell, squeezed as hard as he could. “Rose didn’t tell me it was her job to provide every detail of her fucking life to her cousin.”

Dirk squeezed back, his grip stronger than Karkat’s, and Karkat winced. “That’s not a dig at Rose, by-the-way, that’s just on brand.”

“You’re not wrong,” said Rose. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too,” said Karkat, and he and Dirk released hands. Karkat grabbed the handle of his suitcase once more, and Dirk started to lead them as they swerved past other people going about their day. 

The gentle breeze and the sun hitting her cheeks were a balm to Rose after being trapped inside a bus for three hours. It wasn’t as though her mother couldn’t afford to get her and Dave cars, but Rose had to grudgingly admit she didn’t leave campus that often. Still, it would be convenient not to have to pay for an Uber or a bus ride on the occasional weekends she and Dave met up at the halfway point between their universities.

When they reached the car, Dirk popped the trunk and Rose hefted her suitcase inside. Dirk grabbed Karkat’s suitcase and opened a door, gesturing them inside. “I’ll let you two lovebirds have the back seat.”

“How generous of you,” said Rose, and she sat down, Karkat sliding in beside her, crossing his arms after buckling his seatbelt. She buckled hers as well; Dirk never cared, but Karkat would pitch a fit if she didn’t.

Dirk started the ignition and pulled onto the road. “So, Karkat. What do you study?”

“Literature, with a certificate in creative writing.”

“I’m guessing you don’t want me to ask you what you plan to do with your degree?”

“You could, but I’d have to tell you the answer is feeding my annotated copy of the _Complete Works of William Shakespeare_ to you page by page until you die from internal bleeding.”

“Then I won’t ask. I’m currently a freelance software engineer myself; I’m just years away from coding an artificial intelligence that’s an exact replica of my brain.”

“Step aside, Alexa, this is truly what every American will want in their homes,” said Rose, who had been met several times with prototypes of Dirk’s ‘Auto-Responder.’ A few instances, she even managed to get in a few exchanges before Pesterchum crashed.

“I’m glad you see my vision,” Dirk said. “I also build robots in my free time, when my boyfriend isn’t available.” 

“And how is Jake?” Rose asked. Jake was far from her favorite member of the Har-lish-crock-berts, but his tendency to merge antiquated vocabulary with current slang was amusing, and he could tell a pretty engaging story.

“He’s coming in with Jade tomorrow night; the cheap tickets were all pretty late,” said Dirk. “I’m stoked to see him; turns out we don’t do well with long distance. Waiting for messages and ‘establishing boundaries’ is hard.”

“I know how much you hate being left on read,” said Rose.

“Which is why you can take a whole fuckin’ afternoon to respond to a message as simple as ‘How are you?’”

Rose made a dismissive gesture. “Neither the world nor I are beholden to your whims, Dirk. Speaking of reading: anything interesting lately?”

“No recs for you right now, but I did stay up writing my magnum opus: Snape/Lupin slashfic about flesh-eating hippogriffs devouring their souls. I think I managed to include some pretty scathing meta commentary about Rowling’s treatment of homosexuality in her works.”

Karkat groaned. “Please tell me this is not an actual conversation we are having.”

“Rose, tell me that your boyfriend doesn’t think _Harry Potter_ has some serious issues with queer representation, or that he thinks hating _Harry Potter_ is a personality trait.”

“It’s not that, you uncultured pustule! Of course _Harry Potter_ is both a cultural touchstone and has major problems! But if you’re just going to pretend that Lupin didn’t hate Snape’s guts and was clearly in love with Sirius…”

❀.*｡･

“Davey!” Dave was accosted almost immediately after exiting the bus. There was no mistaking that particular squeal, or the tight embrace of Roxy’s arms. Roxy’s grip was safe and warm, and after gaining his bearings, Dave hugged them back and lifted them off their feet. 

“Yeesh. Give a guy a moment to breathe, Lalonde.”

“Shut up; I missed you.” Fuck, he missed them too. Roxy constricted their arms tighter, and Dave matched their enthusiasm. Roxy gasped, releasing their grip. “Do my eyes deceive me? Is this the beautiful, incomparable Kanaya Maryam?”

“Um,” said Kanaya, smoothing down her skirt, which had been wrinkled from all that sitting. “Yes?”

“I know we just met, but can I hug you? Shit, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I? Who wants to be hugged by a fuckin’ stranger; I should introduce myself! I’m Roxy.”

“It’s nice to meet you. As you just said, I’m Kanaya, Dave’s girlfriend.” Kanaya reached for Dave’s hand as if to prove her point. She held her other hand out to Roxy, who shook it enthusiastically.

“Yeeep.” Dave popped the p. “Roxy, forget every piece of designer name clothing you’ve ever owned, because years from now, you’ll be wearing nothing but Maryam Original Designs.”

“You didn’t mention she was a total babe,” Roxy stage whispered. “Don’t worry about me stealing her; I’m pretty happy with Callie.” Roxy held up their left hand, showing off their wedding ring. “But daaaamn.”

“Dave also neglected to inform me how attractive his relatives were,” said Kanaya, despite having been shown a picture of Roxy an hour ago. Kanaya Maryam, smooth operator.

Roxy giggled and gestured for them to get a move on, as people were already scrambling to get on the next bus. “This is one-hundred percent Lalonde beauty, right here. Pure, undiluted, uncontaminated by Strider genes.”

Dave hoped Kanaya wasn’t taken in by Rose’s ‘Lalonde beauty;’ it would be hard enough to pull this off without his fake girlfriend drooling over his sister, whose angry goth aesthetic bore unfortunate similarity to girls Kanaya had been attracted to in the past. “Yeah, Roxy is my cousin on my Mom’s side. I already told you about Dirk, the cousin on my Bro’s—Dad’s side. Roxy’s the coolest person you’re going to meet, besides myself, of course. Dirk is more ‘generic halloween costume you found in a grocery store’ cool.”

“No need to worry about my affections straying, darling.” Kanaya smiled and leaned into Dave. “You’ll always be the ‘coolest’ person I know.” Dave could hear the sarcastic tinge to Kanaya’s tone at the end; it was going to take a miracle to pull this off, but the train had already started rolling down the tracks. No stopping it now.

“I’m not worried, babe. Our love’s realer than Kim Kardashian’s breast implants.”

“Wow,” said Roxy. 

“I’ll be here all month. The comedy stylings of Dave Strider. Forget Egbert, forget Mulaney, forget every single John who ever aspired to tote a mic on SNL. I’m delivering fresh, relevant funnyjokes to your computer every Friday night.”

“Uh-huh,” said Kanaya.

Roxy grunted as they hefted Dave’s and Kanaya’s suitcases into the trunk. Dave made a show of opening Kanaya’s door for her, and she rolled her eyes. Dave slid into the back seat and the car rumbled to life as Roxy turned the key in the ignition and adjusted their mirrors. “Casa de Lalonde awaits,” they said. 

**Author's Note:**

> Regarding the warnings in this chapter: Dave has some internalized homophobia (or rather, biphobia) going on.
> 
> This is my first multichapter fic, but I do have the story beats outlined, so I have a rough idea of where it’s going and how long it’s going to be (roughly 50K words).


End file.
